


Faded

by LitsyKalyptica



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Blood, F/M, Fear, Gun Violence, M/M, Multi, Polyamorous Alexander Hamilton, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, This one's gonna be sad, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 23:23:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14343132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LitsyKalyptica/pseuds/LitsyKalyptica
Summary: Philip was there when it happened.





	1. Chapter 1

Philip had been up all night.

He had been all ready for bed when he decided the the prom proposal he’d written for Theo wasn’t nearly good enough, couldn’t possibly be his best work. He sat up the rest of the night in his pajamas, writing by a waning lamplight, each failed attempt at the perfect proposal leaving him more discouraged and exhausted. He stayed up writing anyway.

He was too much like his father. One of them, anyway. More like Dad. Papa wouldn’t want to know he’d been up through all hours, writing himself to the verge of another panic attack.

_ Not good. Never good. Why do you bother? She’ll say no. Who would want to go with you? _

There was a knock at the door. Philip hadn’t even realized the sun had come up until the sound brought his mind out of the spiralling pit of anxiety. He turned to the door; Papa was standing there, and if the way his face shifted was any indication, Philip’s physical and emotional exhaustion was painfully visible.

“Are you okay?”

Philip hesitated before he decided to give the truth. “I was up all night.”

“Why?”

“I need to get this just right.”

“What is it?” He stepped closer to take a look. Philip’s dissatisfying pieces had been made illegible by scribbled ink through the words, but Papa seemed to get the jist.

“I’m asking Theo to the prom.”

He grinned. “That’s cute, Pip.”

“No, it’s not cute! I still haven’t gotten the proposal letter right.”

“Is that what this is about?” Papa crouched down to get more on Philip’s level. “Hey. Theo loves you. She will say yes no matter how you ask.”

Philip just shook his head and flung himself at the desk hard enough to leave a bruise on his waist later. He tried writing again. His hand trembled as it scribbled down words that would never be right, and Philip shook it out with a cry of frustration. 

John plucked the pen from his son’s hand. Philip spun around in his chair, looking at him with confusion and irritation.

“You’re working yourself up. She will say yes. You look exhausted and like you’re on the verge of an attack. Deep breaths.” He took an exaggerated deep breath himself to set the example.

Philip struggled, but followed his lead.

“Think some good thoughts. Theo loves you. She tells you all the time, right? There’s no reason for her not to go to prom with her boyfriend, right?”

“Right…”

“And you’re going to keep telling yourself that, right?”

Philip swallowed and sighed. “Yes.”

Papa kissed his head and ruffled his hair before heading over to a marker board in the corner. Among various other frenzied notes, there was a set of tally marks in the corner, a count of the days since Philip had had his last panic attack. Currently 19. John put a slash through the most recent set of four, bringing the total to twenty. He set the marker down and turned back to Philip with a confident smile. “You’re going to keep reminding yourself that it doesn’t matter how you ask her, Theo loves you and she will say yes. Here, write that down.”

Philip turned back to his desk and scribbled the words down on a purple notecard. He spun back around in his chair to show: “THEO LOVES ME. SHE WILL SAY YES.”

“Good job, son. Now put that with the rest of your positivity cards so you’ll have it when you need to remember. I’m leaving the new count at twenty, and when you get home you can tell me all about how you were able to fight off an attack by thinking more positively.”

Philip couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face. “Alright.”

“But you need to get ready for that conference, don’t you?”

Philip nodded and stood, stretching out his sore back and arms, taking his time. Papa patted him on the back, both an encouragement and an urge to get moving. Philip laughed a little and headed out. 

_ Theo loves you. She’ll go to prom with you. It doesn’t matter how you ask her. _

It was difficult to think these things, difficult to convince himself the opposite wasn’t the real truth. But he tried. He couldn’t afford to give in to such self-defeating thoughts.

_ Theo loves you. Mama and Dad and Papa love you too. They’re proud of you. You’ve been doing so well. And everything will work out. _

He took a quick shower.


	2. Chapter 2

Alex and Eliza were both out for the day, Alex at a mayoral campaign debate and Eliza at an emergency school board meeting. Philip would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit disappointed, but it wasn’t like they could cancel their obligations to go to the conference with him. It wasn’t his parents he was upset with, anyway, it was just the timing.

He kicked a pebble off the sidewalk.

“You’ll scuff your nice shoes.”

Papa had wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Philip smiled, feeling a bit better with one of his parents going with him, even if they all couldn’t.

“How are you feeling?”

“Anxious,” he admitted, almost too quickly. He didn’t want to go back to spiralling so early in the day, but he would argue that his reasons for being nervous were more logical this time. He was set to head a panel for prospective students of the CSCA, representing the Prose and Poetry concentration. “But excited.”

John grinned and patted him on the back. “Think you’ll convince them to join the program?”

“I don’t think they’ll need much convincing, but hopefully.”

They stopped in a deli for breakfast, eating egg and bacon sandwiches on the way. Papa was teasing Philip for putting ketchup on his, calling him a heathen, and it served its purpose of making Philip laugh. They were just around the corner from the school; Philip tried hyping himself up without siking himself out.

“Did you take your pill this morning?”

Philip shook his head.

“Do you have it on you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Take it when you get inside, alright?”

Philip gave a mocking groan. “Yes, Pop.”

“I’ll see you later, alri—”

 

The gunshots came out of nowhere. At least, Philip later wouldn’t be able to identify when and how it started. Once his ears stopped ringing and his mind refocused, he realized two things. He’d been shot in the arm, only grazed but definitely bleeding. And when he looked to Papa for help, he found that Papa had been shot in the chest.

Philip heard screaming as John fell to the ground. The passerby who called 911 would later say it was Philip screaming.

He dropped down next to his side. His hands shook violently as he struggled to figure out what he should, what he could, do. He could see the hole through all the blood, just to the left of Papa’s sternum. Philip’s heart was pounding in his chest, in his ears. He couldn’t breathe.

“Pip.”

His voice came in the puff of a reedy pant. John could only take in sips of air through the pain, and it was definitely not enough to supply oxygen through his quickly draining bloodstream. But Philip was there, and he was in the harrowing depth of a panic attack. John needed to stay calm for his son.

“Hey. It’s okay.” He could barely speak at all, every syllable exhausting in a way no amount of sleep could possibly replenish. He didn’t want to worry Philip at all, but there was only so much he could do in his current state. And he felt guilty about it. “Pip. Pressure.”

Philip nodded, fighting through the haze of anxiety to pull off his school sweater. He pressed the dark gray wool to the wound in his father’s chest, pushing it down. He pulled back for just a moment when he thought Papa couldn’t breathe, but John laid his hand over Philip’s and helped him push on it again.

“It’s okay, Pip…” He’d grown a grayish pale and his eyes were glassy. He was so tired. He could barely make out the sound of wailing sirens approaching, and he offered his son a weak smile. “It’ll be okay…”

“Papa? Papa? Wake up! _Please!_ ”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is SUPER short. I'm trying out 1 scene = 1 chapter. Let me know what you think!

Alexander was, honestly, wiping the floor with his opponent. It was just the first debate, questions open to members of the press, and the other man was already floundering, while Alexander answered every question with ease and eloquence. He was riding the high of his success, at this point just running out the clock with the few questions that were left.

One journalist was checking her phone, gasped, and blurted out the news while everyone else was raising their hands to ask a question. “Mr. Hamilton! Your husband is in the hospital!”

Alex was certain he’d misheard her. “I’m sorry? Ma’am?”

But the crowd had gone wild with the news, and Alex’s publicist took him by the arm to remove him to backstage.

Alex was immediately turning his phone back on.  _ It sounded like… No. No, she didn’t say… _

There was a voicemail from Bellevue Hospital. Alexander struggled to process what was being said, most of the message lost in his fear-addled brain, only retaining the most important details.

_ John… shot… critical... Philip… _

“No…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, hilariously, the original details Alex retained was "John... shot... Philip" but I didn't want it to read like John had shot Philip xD


	4. Chapter 4

His publicist drove him to the hospital. Alex sat shaking in the back seat. He’d thought, more than once, to call the hospital back to get more information, or to at least listen to the voicemail message again. But he couldn’t. He managed to convince himself that none of this was real, that he’d get to Bellevue and he’d find that everything was okay. He’d go home and find that Philip was at school and John was working from the dining room table, and everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay. He had to believe that. What other choice did he have?

Alexander fidgeted with the simple silver band on his fingers. He almost pulled it off, just for a moment, just to see that it still said “Forever.” The inscription burned his finger as tears burned in his eyes. The tears gathered, flooded, but wouldn’t fall. No. To cry properly meant to accept that something was wrong, and nothing was wrong, right?

Everything was okay.

The car bumped and glided into the hospital parking lot.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex was directed to the waiting room for trauma surgery. He couldn’t consciously process anything that was going on, just let his feet follow the nurse that led him there. Along the way he heard her offer him water, coffee, but he couldn’t recall saying yes to either. His mind was far removed from his immediate surroundings; and as long as he could stay removed, perhaps none of it would prove to be real.

Reality came crashing down in the waiting room.

Philip was there. He was wrapped in a blanket. He was pale, shaking, looking like he was about to vomit, and Alex rushed toward him. The nurses left them alone.

“Philip?... Pip, look at me.”

The boy just whimpered and tucked his chin against his chest, hiding himself away from his father.

Alex winced and gently stroked his hair. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay.”

Philip shook his head stiffly, and Alex had a hard time convincing himself that it was true, how was he supposed to convince anyone else?

Alex sat next to him, wrapping one arm around his son, his free hand pulling out his phone. He looked at the double doors into the surgery ward. John was in there somewhere. Alex didn’t want to think about what might be happening with him now. How long had he been in surgery? How long until he came out? 

Would he come out at all? 

He needed to text Eliza. She needed to know what was going on, and she’d want to be here.

**_Alex:_ ** _ John’s been shot. I’m with Philip at the hospital. We’re waiting for him. I need you to bring some things... _

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to comment! Comments encourage quicker replies!


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